A Mother and Son As Training Partners

I took up running for all the usual reasons: to get in shape, to set personal records, to go farther than I had ever gone before. I ran because I was told I could--and because I was told I couldn't. I ran because I was too old to be a gymnast and too uncoordinated to ride a bike.

All those reasons compelled me to run, at one time or another. But now I have a much stronger reason--my young son, who accompanies me in his jogging stroller. These days, when his little voice pleads for a "bobby ride," that's the only motivation I need.

I never suspected my perspective could change so much with just one purchase. In fact, I like to believe the old cliche about what money can't buy. But when I ordered the jogging stroller, I had a feeling about it. I even called the shop every day asking if it had come in yet.

When I finally got it and took my son for his first ride, I knew why I had been so anxious for its arrival. The stroller would bring us together in a way that nothing else could. After all, he can't appreciate my fondness for crossword puzzles, and I can't appreciate his for toy trucks. But the stroller allows us to share something we both love despite our differences in age, size and ability.

Granted, the weight of the stroller combined with the weight of my son slows me down. But I don't care. I was never fast to begin with. No false humility here; I once sprinted shamelessly to the finish line of a road race just to save myself from being last.

Besides, my new running partner gives me more important things to think about than speed. And he has changed my running in several wonderful ways.

I used to run the other way every time I spotted a dog. Now Nicholas yells, "Come, doggy doggy" to every canine we see. And I, in turn, have become much more relaxed around them.

I used to worry about how I looked to passing motorists and fellow runners. Now I think less about the fit of my shorts or about my sweaty face and more about my son's spectacular sightings--a penny, a tulip, a butterfly he attempts to snatch from the air.

I used to make excuses not to run. I'd tell myself the day or the time or the place wasn't ideal for running. Now I have a running partner who informs me that he is ready anytime, anywhere. The snow or the heat doesn't deter him; to him, they're all the more reason to go out.

I used to think satisfaction came at the end, at the finish line. Now I know that what I see or smell or do on the way is much more significant than the distance we covered or how fast we did it.

I used to force myself to run for some imagined future--a future when I would be thin and fast. But now the future will bring a day when my son outgrows the stroller and may not want to go for a run with his old mom. So I no longer run for what running may bring me tomorrow but for what running gives me--and my son--today.

A Part of Hearst Digital Media
Runner's World participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means we may get paid commissions on editorially chosen products purchased through our links to retailer sites.